


Too Late

by Littlemouse_04



Series: Only Slightly Shitty [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Drugs, Oneshot, Other, Possibly Triggering, Post Hiatus, i dont know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 01:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12446816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemouse_04/pseuds/Littlemouse_04
Summary: Another night was yet again spent comforting a mopey Patrick.-They found Patrick in the toilets, hunched over. He must be sick.-The band needed a break. Everyone agreed.





	Too Late

_Another night was spent comforting a mopey Patrick._  
~  
 _They found Patrick in the toilets, hunched over. He must be sick._  
~  
 _The band needed a break. Everyone agreed._  
~

Post-hiatus*

The coffee shop door creaked as Joe entered the enclosed little cafe, instantly being drawn to the table with two of his best friends.   
"Dude, it's so good to see you! It's been, what, 2 years since we have last seen each other?"

Andy and Pete both jumped up to greet their friend and lead him towards their booth ready to discuss the possibility of restarting the band.  
"Man, you guys look good! Your hair finally freed from all that straightening?" Pete only laughed in response.

"Has...has anyone actually seen Patrick since we, y'know, took a break? I have only seen photos but I wasn't sure that it was him. He would never bleach his hair seeing as he spent most of his time chastising me about mine. And the suits? Totally not Patrick."  
The discussion was cut short by the telltale sound of the door hinge announcing someone else's arrival.

All three men collectively gasped.

A stony-faced man had appeared by their booth, electric blue suit, gelled platinum hair, newfound confidence oozing from their posture and diamond cheekbones framing a familiar porcelain face. A shy smile escaped from rose lips as Patrick examined his ex-bandmates.

"Hey."

Wow. Ok. That's a change...  
"Oh my God! Patrick what did you do? You look amazing! Where did, like, half of you go? Who are you and what have you done with our squishy little bean?", Pete rambled, almost immediately followed by a slightly awkward silence.  
After 4 years of not seeing each other, the others didn't see the fractional tightening of Patrick's smile. Or he had just gotten better at hiding his emotions.

_Breathe, Patrick. put on a brave face. Don't let them see how much you are hurting._

So that's how they spent their afternoon: complimenting each other on their new work, appearance, anything and just generally catching up. Being friends. It had been years after all.  
Then the subject of the band came up. It seemed everyone was all for it, but only if new conditions would be met.  
>Time to oneself is requested (from Patrick)  
>A new songwriting process (by both Andy and Joe)  
>A washing hamper (by Pete)

The band was back.  
~

Back at his home, Patrick stumbled to his bathroom, avoiding the mirror, heading straight for the cabinet and the sweet relief of the needles. He _knew_ it was stupid but he was in too deep. The heroin helped him lose weight quickly and just made him feel so **alive**. He had tried other stuff too, of course, (cutting, cocaine, weed, ecstasy etc.) but nothing compared. By this point, his addiction had overruled any concern for his health. The things he would do for his drug... even whoring himself out in the back alleys of clubs to anyone that could supply them (only when he was desperate and needed a quick fix).

The liquid happiness flowed through the puncture in his skin and he finally relaxed a little. As the drug pumped through his veins it was as if a black and white filter slipped away from the vibrant expanse of his mind. The only thing he had to do now was to get rid of the calorific pastry ha had consumed at the cafe, partly so as to not raise any suspicion, partly because it had been so _long_ since he had last eaten. The drugs forced any thoughts of regret or shame from his mind and he curled over the toilet. He was an expert at this by now.  
~  
The first FOB tour was announced a few months later. He would be fine. He would have to be fine. They wouldn't find out. They couldn't. Nothing could go wrong.  
On the tour bus, he would just pretend to be happy little Patrick that the other guys knew him to be. Expected him to be.  
He would eat any food presented to him, throw it up later and no one would be any the wiser. His beloved drugs would hide in an empty Star Wars box set case.  
Luckily, they had hotels almost every other night, giving him a chance to shoot up and purge everything and anything he had eaten. It was going to work.  
No one suspected a thing and were sure that Patrick was confident and happy, or at least would say if something was up. Ha.

Patrick's first mistake was when Joe first extracted his bong with the intention of getting high (duh). Normally, before the hiatus, Joe and occasionally Pete would take hits while Patrick and Andy went to grab some food but this time something changed.  
Pete declined like he usually would do and Andy grabbed Patrick to lead him to a vegan deli somewhere close by but was met with, "Nah, I think i'm gonna stay. Y'know, just to make sure Joe doesn't do anything he'll regret."

Both Andy and Pete shared a dubious look but then just accepted it as Patrick being the stereotypical 'mom friend' and looking out for Joe. The door closed.  
"Hit me up."  
"Dude, you sure? For a beginner, this will be really strong. I reckon you'll be out in three puffs."  
Inhale.  
"I've had better."  
~  
when they came back, a plume of smoke was drifting from Patrick's mouth as Joe sprawled on the couch, only half conscious. Pete ran in and swiftly snatched the bong and lighter from Patrick's hands.  
" _Noooooo, Pete_! I know what I'm doing! Ugh!"  
Andy frowned, "...Patrick, when have you smoked before? You never did it before the hiatus. You're against it."  
" _Andyyyyy_! I have done it loaddsss! My new friends helped me in the hiatus...high...high anus!" Patrick started cackling at his dumb joke as his two friends became even more worried. little did they know that Patrick had made his 'friends' in rehab.  
 _Patrick never did drugs... What other friends? Had he really done as he claimed?_

~

The next morning both Joe and Patrick had major headaches but all in all, no residual ailments. According to Joe, Patrick even outlasted him and that was no easy feat. Apparently, he took it like a natural.  
~

A week had gone by and shows were going well. Patrick's routine was as of yet undiscovered and effective. Everyone was happy...or at least pretending to be.

Patrick was almost low on his 'supplies' and decided he needed to restock.  
After a show he found himself scouting out a dodgy looking area before catching some dude's eye. A wink was exchanged and into an alley they slinked.

"What's it gonna be?"  
...  
Pete spotted his friend walking away from a shadowed area, tucking a rather hefty package into his jacket. Must've been a gift from a fan. He used to get those all the time.  
~  
A hotel night finally arrived. 4 separate bedrooms as usual. Finally, Patrick could...'play' with his new happy pills.

Of course, he started with the heroin but after a while, he opened his package from a few days prior. Down cascaded rainbow of capsules and pills and powder, anything an addict could want, spreading around the coffee table.  
Patrick decided he liked the hallucinogens. They were _fun._

~

Soon, one leg of the tour was over but that meant two weeks of travelling non-stop. No hotel nights. Nothing. Patrick was freaking out.

He knew he couldn't go that long without fuelling his addiction. He couldn't put on more weight. They helped him become... beautiful.   
He had taken to sneaking off to bathrooms, secluded hallways, even his bunk on a few occasions to let the drug flow freely through his bloodstream.  
~  
Andy found a needle under a wad of loo roll on the bus's bathroom. After arduous interrogations, it was concluded that the aforementioned needle didn't belong to either Joe nor Pete and it just _couldn't_ be Patricks. It must have been one of the crew members from a previous venue. Apparently, Andy didn't think it was odd that some unknown person was allowed access to their temporary living space, employee or not.  
~  
Patrick couldn't do it. He wasn't losing enough weight. He thought he looked like a blob. The drugs weren't working like they used to, their barriers against the destructive thoughts were withering away, just like Patrick's stability. He couldn't go as long without them anymore. His doses weren't enough.  
 _Fat_  
 _Ugly_  
 _Worthless_  
 _Disgusting_  
The cliche thoughts constantly ran through his mind but that didn't dull the pain. The damage.  
~

THe guys were just eating a takeout when the singer stood up. His hands shook. He was jittering, stuttering. All the telltale signs of someone who was _not ok_. His friends didn't notice.  
~  
Everything was _toomuchloudbrightpainfulscary_. Patrick stumbled to his bunk, hands clamouring at the curtain. He needed to feel ok again. The only thing that could make him happy anymore was the drugs. He needed happiness. That's what everyone said, right? _Right_??? Happy happy Patrick, nothimg wrong always happy! The relentless voices in his head just kept on repeating, laughing, urging. _If i take them all, I will be happy. I will be beautiful._  
The chemicals started to infect his system, poisoning him. He loved it. He felt sleepy...

~

A few hours of video games later, the three wanted to watch a movie.  
"I saw 'Trick had Star Wars in his duffel. I'll be back in a second."

The curtain was drawn back as Pete peered into Patrick's bunk. He must be asleep. He won't mind. Pete grabbed the box. It was heavy.

Once back in the lounge area, they bickered over which Episode to watch. It only took 20 minutes. Note the sarcasm.

They opened the box set. They did not find films.  
"What the fuck?"  
"Oh my God!"  
"Patrick?"  
Packets of pills, LSD, needles, mushrooms, ecstasy, cocaine, vials, rolls of stuff to smoke.

The contents scattered onto the floor. Every man was shaking. Their friend, their innocent friend, possesed all of this? But how?   
He was happy. He was safe. He seemed normal. Oh God was it a lie?

Andy wanted answers.

He sprinted to Patrick's bunk, practically tearing off the curtain. Patrick's eyes were open, blank, void. His arms hung limply by his side. His lips were blue, mouth foaming and white powder mixed with blood pooling on his upper lip.  
Andy's anger dissipated. Fear struck his core.  
" _Oh God_..."  
Andrew staggered back, "Call the fucking police! Get an ambulance! Oh, God, someone HELP!"  
Pete and Joe ran to the scene.  
Pete fainted. Joe screamed. Andy cried.  
~

Patrick Vaughn Stump.  
Cause of death: _sadness_

**Author's Note:**

> un betad  
> Taken from my Wattpad


End file.
